


Fever

by Dandalion



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandalion/pseuds/Dandalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren drags Chris to a karaoke bar.  Darren takes advantage of the bar's stage to convince Chris that he means it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday present for my best friend in the whole world, Dana! Also, this is my first ever Crisscolfer, so be nice please! Some feedback would be wonderful.
> 
> The song used is "Fever" sung by Peggy Lee. It won't match up perfectly with the story, but definitely listen to it =)
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGb5IweiYG8

Chris has no idea how he ended up here.  Okay, that’s a lie.  He knows exactly how he ended up here.  A certain curly-haired jackass dragged him here very much against his will.  The same curly-haired jackass who is currently grinning and bopping his head to the ear-splitting karaoke stylings of a middle-age woman in a terrible, too tight dress, while heading back to the table Chris is sitting at.  Fortunately, he has shots.  Hopefully tequila shots.

“Those better be tequila shots,” Chris sneers at Darren.

“Of course, man!” Darren replies, stepping right in Chris’ line of vision, his smile widening when Chris is forced to look at him.  “Nothing less for royalty.”  He winks before licking a bit of salt off his thumb, throwing a shot back and slamming the glass down before quickly grabbing a slice of lime to suck on.  Then he winks again.  Chris thinks Darren winks entirely too often.

“Your turn, my friend,” Darren says with a pat on Chris’ back.  Chris doesn’t dignify this with a response, but he does dab some salt in between his thumb and forefinger, then licks it, takes a shot and snatches the lime from Darren’s hand to suck on.

Chris takes two more shots in quick succession, hoping the alcohol will help remedy the fact that he’s at a fucking  _karaoke_  bar, something he swore he’d never step foot it.  The tequila pumping through him is definitely soothing his headache that was caused by the constant stream of disillusioned singers.  Seriously, there should be some law against this kind of thing.

Despite his strong aversion to all things karaoke, Chris finds himself having a good time, especially once there are 6 shots flowing through his veins and Darren has pulled him onto the dance floor.

They’re grinding.  It takes Chris a second (or probably minutes) to realize it, but he’s pressed up close against Darren.  It feels nice.  It feels very nice, in fact, but that’s not something he wants to think about.  He hopes Darren isn’t thinking about it either.  There are strict rules about thinking things like this, but his drunken brain can’t seem to remember them. 

Darren is whispering something into his ear.  Has been whispering something for a while now, and Chris feels bad because he’s missed nearly all of it due to all of his thinking.

“Sorry, what?” he asks, reaching a hand up to tug at the back of Darren’s neck and pull his lips closer to his ear.  To hear him better, he tells himself.

“I said, you are so damn sexy when you move your hips like that,” Darren growls.  Chris squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them.  Then he starts laughing.

“You’re funny, Dare,” Chris manages to get out between breathy giggles.  He turns around so that he can look Darren in the eye.  “But can we just cut the ‘confident straight man who supports his gay friend by complimenting his attractiveness’ act, because it’s not so helpful when I’m drunk and horny.”  Good lord, did he really just say that out loud?

Darren regards him for a minute.  Chris feels uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and wishes they could just go back to dancing.  Dancing was good.  But then Darren is pulling away slightly and Chris has never been so frustrated in his life.

“You don’t believe that I think you’re sexy?” Darren says.  He’s not angry; he seems to find Chris’ antics amusing, albeit wrong. 

“No, I believe that you believe that you think I’m sexy,” Chris says before wondering if that even makes sense.  Before he can dwell too long on it, his mouth plows ahead with whatever he was talking about.  “But I think it’s just the tequila talking.”

“What if it’s not?”  Darren says, completely seriously.  Chris thinks he’s being annoying with all this talk and really hopes they can get back to dancing soon.  Because the dancing was really, really fun.

“It’s fine, Dare, you’re drunk.  C’mon, we’ve been over this before.  Anything we say when drunk can’t and won’t be used against us in a court of friendship law, or something.”

“Let me prove it to you.”

“By doing what?” Chris tries to ask, but he’s too late.  Darren has already started walking away.  Where is he going?  Chris immediately feels cold and tries not to wish for Darren’s warm, solid body back against his.  He tries to ignore his half hard cock as well, but it becomes increasingly difficult to do so when he realizes that Darren is on stage.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Chris mutters to himself.  Darren isn’t actually about to  _sing_.  If there’s one thing that breaks Chris’ resolution to never think of Darren in any romantic or sexual light, it’s his drunken singing.  If anything, Darren is  _better_  when drunk.  At least, he doesn’t hold back as much on the sex appeal.  Or at all, really.  There’s no way Chris can handle this.   _Please_ , he thinks, _if there is a God, do_ not _let this happen, because I will most likely not survive it_.

Darren is speaking, and Chris has half a mind to actually pay attention this time, because he can’t exactly ask his friend to repeat himself from so far away.

“This song is for…a friend of mine.  A very sexy friend, who unfortunately can’t recognize his own appeal.  Or, maybe he does, but he won’t let  _me_  recognize it, so this little ditty is to help convince him and hopefully, ah…move things along, if you catch my drift.”  Darren casts another one of his fucking winks out at the audience, who laughs heartily at his disclaimer and cheers him on as the music begins to play.

At first, Chris doesn’t think he knows the song.  The music sounds vaguely familiar, but in his drunken state, he’s having a hard time placing it.  It isn’t until Darren starts singing that it hits him, and he has to sit down because he’s so stunned that Darren would choose this to sing to him (and officially, 100% hard).

 

_**Never know how much I love you** _

 

 

 

Never know how much I care

When you put your arms around me

I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever when you kiss me

Fever when you hold me tight

Fever in the morning

 

 

 

**_Fever all through the night._ **

 

Fucking Darren with his sexy smirk and the way he grips the junction where the mic stand holds the microphone in place with both hands and his stupid neck, all shiny with sweat and stretched out in the stage light when he tilts his head to the side before focusing his sight line back out into the audience, eyes searching for something.  Him, Chris’ brain supplies.  Darren is looking for him.

 

_**Sun lights up the daytime** _

 

 

 

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever when you kiss me

Fever when you hold me tight

Fever in the morning

 

 

 

**_Fever all through the night_ **

 

         “Now I know you all know this next part,” Darren says, his voice low and dripping with seduction.  He’s got the whole crowd eating out of the palm of his hand, and they all join in for the next few lines.

 

_**Everybody's got the fever** _

 

 

 

That is something you all know

Fever isn't such a new thing

 

 

 

**_Fever started long ago_ **

 

Chris could kill him.  Darren is totally playing dirty.  They agreed at the beginning of their time working together that they wouldn’t let it become awkward, what with Chris being gay and Darren being…whatever Darren was, but publicly straight.  Because they were smart.  Because they knew that they could never be together.  Because it would be messy and confusing and hard to hide and potentially threatening to their jobs and their lives and their friendship.  Because no matter how perfect they were for each other, no matter how much electricity flowed between them, no matter how strong their bond was, they just…couldn’t.

 

_**Romeo loved Juliet** _

 

 

 

Juliet she felt the same

When he put his arms around her

He said 'Julie, baby, you're my flame

Thou giv-est fever when we kisseth

Fever with thy flaming youth

Fever I'm afire

 

 

 

**_Fever yea I burn forsooth'_ **

 

Chris can’t help but smile at Darren’s ability to sing the goofy lines with complete sincerity.  His eyes have finally located Chris, and he hasn’t broken his gaze since.  He smiles genuinely, before smirking again as he launches into the next verse.

 

_**Captain Smith and Pocahontas** _

 

 

 

Had a very mad affair

When her daddy tried to kill him

She said 'Daddy, oh, don't you dare

He gives me fever with his kisses

Fever when he holds me tight

Fever, I'm his misses,

 

 

 

**_Oh daddy, won't you treat him right'_ **

 

Chris has taken two more shots, needing to distract himself from the sweaty, sexy, flirty, singing Darren who has emphasized every “kiss” with a flick of his tongue over his lips and another _goddamn_  wink right at Chris.  Chris has been reduced to a puddle of sexually frustrated, horny, confused, semi-furious boy in his chair.  He can do nothing but keep his eyes on Darren and try not to fall completely apart as he starts singing again.

 

_**Now you've listened to my story** _

 

 

 

Here's the point that I have made

Chicks were born to give you fever

Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade

They give you fever when you kiss them

 

 

 

**_Fever if you live and learn_ **

 

Darren is walking off the stage.  Darren is walking towards him.  Darren is still singing, slowly making his way to Chris, who has somehow gotten to his feet and is standing next to his chair, frozen in time and place as Darren zones in on him, like a lion on cornered prey.

 

_**Fever till you sizzle** _

 

**_Oh, What a lovely way to burn_ **

 

Darren is just feet away from him now.

 

_**What a lovely way to burn** _

 

Just a few inches and they’ll be toe-to-toe, chest-to-chest, face-to-face.

 

_**What a lovely way to burn** _

 

Darren is right in front of him, the mic still pressed against his lips as he utters the final line of the song, directly to Chris.

 

_**What a lovely way to burn** _

 

Darren has lowered the mic away from his face.  His eyes search Chris’, as if asking “do you believe me now?”.  Maybe it’s the tequila, maybe it’s his painful erection, maybe it’s the fact that he’s known all along that they should be together.  Maybe it’s the way Darren is looking into his eyes with a slightly reserved expression, just a bit worried that he played this all wrong, that he messed it all up, that he’s going to be rejected.  Whatever it is, Chris doesn’t have time to figure it out before he’s wrapping his arms tightly around Darren’s neck and slamming their mouths together in a perfect mess of lips and tongues.

         When they finally part, leaning their foreheads together, Chris musters all the courage he can before uttering a simple phrase against Darren’s lips, summing it all up:

         “What a lovely way to burn.”


	2. Afire

“Can we go back to your apartment?”

         It’s a simple question, really, and yet it has Chris’ drunken mind spinning with contemplation. If they do this, if they really go through with this, that’ll be it.  There’ll be no going back, no way to know what will happen.

         It might be the ridiculous amount of alcohol he’s consumed, but he finds himself not caring about the aftermath.

         “Yes, please, yes,” he whispers back, finally extracting himself from Darren’s hold, pulling their faces apart and lacing their hands together, tugging a bewildered but very excited Darren toward the door.

         They get into the first cab they find, and it’s all they can do to sit apart, on opposite sides of the  backseat, nothing but their hands—still clasped tight—touching.  Both men are achingly hard, but Chris gives Darren a we-are-in-a-taxi-don’t-you- _dare_  bitch look that has Darren’s other hand pulling away from Chris’ thigh faster than lightening.  If they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it right, damn it.

         They finally,  _finally_  get to Chris’ apartment building, and race into the elevator, never losing their grip on each other.

         The second the elevator doors close, Darren crowds Chris into the wall, pressing flush against him—no escape.

         “I cannot wait to make you scream, you beautiful, beautiful man,” Darren whispers seductively.  Even as a more than pleasant chill runs up Chris’ spine at the words, he manages to retort without missing a beat.

         “Who says I’ll be the only one screaming, Mr. Criss?”  And with that, the elevator doors open, and Chris slides out from underneath Darren’s hold.  “Coming?” he says to the stock still man who seems to be stuck to the elevator floor.

         Darren’s head shoots up and he fixes his gaze on Chris, his eyes darkening at the double-entendre of the countertenor’s question.

         “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he responds, before chasing Chris to his apartment, distracting him by pressing into his back as he tries to find the right key and open the damn door.  Darren’s kisses against the back of his neck and the suction at the top of his spine do  _not_  help matters.

         When he finally gets the door open, they tumble inside, the door slamming shut as Chris pushes Darren against it.  They fumble around, lips pressed firmly together, tongues sliding and exploring, fingers pulling at shirts and clothes finding their way to the floor.  When they’ve both managed to get the other down to just their boxer-briefs (or just briefs, for Chris), they finally come up for air.

         “Bedroom,” Darren says, and they stumble their way there, Darren following Chris’ lead, the taller man flipping light switches as they go along so as not to make their drunken journey any more difficult.

         They get to the bedroom and Chris immediately gets onto the bed, laying out and waiting for Darren to join him.  But he doesn’t.

         “Darren?”  Chris says, leaning up on his elbows.  “Wha-What’s up?”  He tries to keep the worried tremor out of his voice, but he doesn’t think he succeeds, because the next thing he knows, Darren is kneeling on the bed next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

         “It’s fine, I’m fine, I’m not like, having second thoughts or anything.  Trust me, I’d be crazy to pass this up.  It’s just—“ he cuts himself off, sighing and smiling slightly, as if not quite sure how to word it.  “I’m just really, really happy that we’re doing this.”

         Chris can’t help but break into a wide grin at his friend’s words.  He agrees completely, and shows it by leaning up to kiss Darren lightly, the passion ever-present, but the intensity and the _needthisnowdeargodori’lldie_ -ness of it all has passed.  Chris looks forward to them making love, which is how he’s always preferred to call it.  Sex sounds too impersonal, or clinical to him, and he wasn’t too crazy about “fucking”.  He loved to get rough every now and then, but to him, it would still be making love, because there would have to be trust if they were to try something like that.

         “C’mere,” he says softly, his smile never fading.  Darren leans into him, positioning himself over Chris’ body, an arm on either side of his head and a leg on either side of his thighs.  “Wait, like this,” Chris says, guiding one of Darren’s legs between his own, his thigh pressing perfectly onto Chris’ hard on.  “Yeah,” he sighs, closing his eyes and dropping his head down.  “Just like that.”

         Darren seems to know what to do from there.  He begins rocking, his thigh creating delicious friction as his own erection presses into Chris’ hip.  He leans down to suck at Chris’ collarbone and is rewarded by a deep groan from the younger boy.  That has always been his most sensitive spot. Of  _course_  Darren finds it right away.

         Darren reaches down to pull at Chris’ briefs, and Chris lifts his hips to help him get them off. Darren then removes his own, and the delightful slide of skin on skin heightens their senses. Darren begins thrusting against Chris harder and faster, working them both towards the edge.

         But Chris doesn’t want it to end so soon.  He grips Darren’s hips, trying to slow his movement.  At first he won’t stop, the sensation too much, too good.  But eventually Chris’ fingers digging into his sides become painful, and he manages to slow his hips, grasping at Chris’ shoulders for a hold on something, anything.

         “What, what, why did you make me stop, please, Chris, please can we just—can we please keep going, please, I need you, I need this, I can’t—“ Chris cuts him off with a kiss, and Darren immediately slips into the man’s mouth, greedily sucking on his tongue and pulling a moan from his throat.

         “Darren,  _god_ ,” Chris breathes out when he finally gets his mouth back.  “I know, I know, I want this too, but, can we just…can we do…more?”

         Darren’s breath hitches and he nods frantically, starting to slither down Chris’ body, obviously not exactly understanding what Chris means.

         “No, wait, that’s not what I—ahh, oh, oh, yes, oh, my god, my GOD, right there,” Chris pants out.  Darren has taken the head of his cock in his mouth and is just playing with it, sliding his tongue back and forth across the slit, pushing up the foreskin and kitten-licking the glands hidden there, laving at the underside, even mouthing lightly at Chris’ balls.

         “Da—Darren, god, as amazing as that is, please, please stop before I lose it,” Chris begs. Darren, reluctantly it seems, lets Chris’ dick drop from his lips and looks up at him with lustful, blown out eyes.

         “I was enjoying that,” he says, and Chris really wants to let him keep going.  But they have other things-- _better_  things—to do.

         “Trust me, you’ll enjoy this too,” he says, pulling on Darren’s shoulders to make the shorter man come back up.  Once he gets there, Chris pulls Darren back into a kiss, drawing this one out, finding the taste of himself on Darren’s tongue an odd, albeit not unpleasant experience.

         “Darren,” Chris says once they’ve both calmed down a bit.

         “Mmmm,” Darren replies, mouthing at the skin behind Chris’ ear.

         “Will you…will you make love to me?”

         Darren freezes.  Chris thinks,  _This is it.  I’ve done it now.  He’s freaking out and this is bad and what if he says no and—_

         “God, Chris, yes, yes, please, god, I can’t even—yes, that’s perfect, that’s amazing, I’ll do anything, I’ll do everything for you,” Darren says as he plants kisses everywhere, from Chris’ nose to his cheeks to his eyelids (and hell if that doesn’t make Chris’ stomach flutter) to his jaw line to his neck to his forehead to the corners of his mouth, then right on his mouth, not pushing inside, just pressing tiny, closed mouth kisses all over his lips.

         Chris doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on and at the same time, touched, as he is by Darren’s reaction to his request.

         “I just…one second, I have, you know, lube and stuff in that drawer right there,” Chris says, sliding a bit out from underneath Darren to retrieve said supplies, pulling out a small bottle of lube and a condom as Darren continues laying kisses on every bit of skin he can find.  Chris smiles to himself at how endearing it all is.

         “Here,” he says, grinning up at Darren as he hands him the lube, placing the condom next to them on the bed.  Darren smiles back and pops open the lid, spreading the cool liquid over his fingers.  As he warms it up between them, he stares down at Chris, biting his lip, as if contemplating a question.

         “What is it?”  Chris asks, a shaky, nervous laugh escaping as he utters his question.  Darren doesn’t answer.  He just leans down to kiss Chris again, and then rolls over onto his back next to him, tugging on Chris’ arm to make him follow.  Now Chris is the one leaning over Darren.

         Darren leans up and brings their lips together again.  Chris’ eyes slide shut, and as they kiss, he feels Darren’s lube covered hand moving down between their bodies.  But he doesn’t feel them searching for his entrance.  Instead, he feels Darren’s body tense slightly, and his breath hitch against Chris’ lips.  Intrigued and confused, Chris pulls his face away, opening his eyes and glancing down at just where Darren’s hand went.  What he sees nearly causes him to come right there.

         Darren has two fingers steadily pumping in and out of his  _own_  ass.  Chris’ gaze flickers between Darren’s fingers and his face, which is pressed against the pillow, his head turned to the side and his unoccupied hand gripping tightly onto Chris’ shoulder.

         “Another one,” he says before he even realizes he’s talking, and Darren obliges, slipping a third finger into himself and crying out at the slight sting along with the pleasure.  Chris reaches down to guide Darren’s fingers in and out, pushing them to curl up, and after a few tries, succeeds in having Darren hit his own spot.  The shorter man’s toes curl and he groans deeply, squeezing Chris’ shoulder and forcing him down for another kiss.

         Chris deepens it, feeling Darren’s mouth go slack as he lets Chris do all the kissing, still working his fingers in and out, in and out.

         “You are  _unbelievable_ ,” Chris whispers against Darren’s mouth, leaning their foreheads together.  He’s answered with a whine, and then Darren is pulling his fingers out of his hole and reaching to get the condom, ripping it open and rolling it onto Chris’ cock, and then slicking it up with lube before Chris can even blink.

         “Please, Chris, now, put it in now, I need you inside me now, please, please,” Darren begs, his pretty eyes pleading and his eyebrows burrowed together.  Chris can’t help but take pity on him, guiding his cock to Darren’s entrance and pressing inside slowly, enjoying the drag of Darren’s tight, hot passage.   _Fever indeed_ , he thinks, then shuns himself for the lame joke.  He can forgive it though, since he’s drunk and currently having mind-blowing intercourse with the most beautiful man alive.

         Once he’s all the way inside, their hips pressed together and Darren’s legs wrapped around him, he leans down and kisses the other man.  He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of Darren’s kisses, and knows they both must look a wreck with their swollen, bruised lips and hickeys everywhere (mostly on Chris).

         “How are you feeling?” he asks when they break apart.

         “Amazing,” Darren replies, smiling softly.  But when he shifts his hips slightly, he winces, and Chris catches it.

         “Darren, have you—you’ve never done this before, have you?”  Chris’ eyes widen, and he almost pulls away before realizing what an overreaction that was (and besides, it felt way too good to ever, ever stop).

         “I—I’ve touched myself, down there, a bunch of times.  Fingered myself, and—and stuff like that.  This guy in college even helped me kind of figure it out once, but…no.  I’ve never slept with a guy before.  Not like this.  Not at all.”

         “Oh,” Chris says, the realization of just what this means finally hitting him.  He can’t comprehend how quickly they went from just friends (albeit, really sexually tense friends, but still) to making love and Chris technically taking Darren’s virginity.  It all suddenly seems so insanely sweet, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss Darren again as he slowly eases his hips back before pressing back in.

         “Ohhhhhhhh,” Darren sighs, his eyes squeezing shut as he presses his head further back into the pillow, focusing intently on how Chris fills him up, pressing against every part of him, all around him, everywhere at once.

         “Can I speed up a little, do you think?  Can you handle that?” Chris asks, not wanting to push him, but Darren nods immediately, so Chris goes a little harder, and little faster, changing his angle to try and find that one, magical spot—

         “OH MY GOD!” Darren shouts, his legs tightening around Chris and his heels digging sharply into Chris’ back.  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my  _fucking_  god,” Darren mumbles, his head thrashing from side to side as Chris picks up speed even more, managing to hit Darren’s prostate more often than not, the shorter man reduced to nothing but fumbling declarations and swears and sweaty curls and clutching fingers.  Chris has never seen anything so magnificent; he’s never felt so much love.

         “Close,” is all Darren’s mutters, and Chris instantly reaches down to pump his dick, tightening his grip slightly when Darren groans and pulling faster as Darren writhes more urgently.  And then he’s coming undone, pulsing in Chris’ hand, gripping too harshly on Chris’ shoulders, his heels too sharp against Chris’ back—they’ll both be so bruised tomorrow—his mouth open and a gasp turning into a moan and lasting throughout his whole orgasm, one long note, music to Chris’ ears, pulling his own orgasm right out of him, and he thrusts a few more times before burying himself deep into Darren’s hole as his body shudders.

         Darren finally slackens as he comes down, his hold on Chris easing up and giving him a chance to slip out.  They both sigh at the feeling, and Chris, not wanting to leave this amazing place of trust and love and highs and pleasure just yet, lies down next to Darren and pulls him to his chest.  Darren nuzzles his head up into the crook of Chris’ neck, and Chris can feel his smile against his skin.

         “That was perfect,” Darren says, unable to articulate anything more before he’s fast asleep, cuddling as close to Chris as he can.  Chris couldn’t have put it any better himself.  He wasn’t sure what would happen now, but he’s looking forward to more of Darren’s perfection.

 

_Oh, what a lovely way…._

 

_To burn_


End file.
